Chapter 12 Aspen
Aspen
After my lunch break ended and Genevieve left, I headed back to work and had to teach my second class of the day on how to ride the slopes. Most of them did so well that they were able to move off the bunny hill by the end of the session so that was nice.
Genevieve’s like two women in one—sweet as sugar in the daylight, sinful as hell after dark.
And yeah, maybe I want to be the only one who gets both sides.
I’ve never met a woman like her before in my life. The mystery is eating me alive. I just want to learn every little thing about this girl.
She told me I could come over tonight and to bring a friend for Lana.
“Preferably the one that knows his way around a burger,” she clarified.
I’m assuming she meant Derek because there is no way in hell Everest can make a burger.
Not that I would dare bring him anyway. Not after what he pulled last night.
Watching them kiss? Felt like getting kicked in the gut and spat on.
He thinks he can touch my girl? He’s got another thing coming.
I never expected when he invited me to that party that it would be Genevieve’s though.
I never thought I would see her again if I’m being completely honest. But if I have to thank Everest for two things, it would be for being a horny slut all the time and for having Tinder.
If it weren’t for him, I never would have found Genevieve again.
Or even know that her name was Genevieve.
Derek typically only works the lunch crowd so he should be home by the time I get there and then I can ask him. I would have asked after lunch, but I instead walked Genevieve to her car and only had one minute left on my lunch break that I had to use to take my afternoon pick-me-up.
Derek would probably say yes though. I haven’t really seen him except for last night and lunch, but both of those times were with Genevieve.
So I haven’t really gotten to talk to him about last night yet, but I know something had to have happened because when I left for work this morning and woke him up, he was sleeping on the couch with Genevieve’s brunette friend Lana and they looked pass out.
They were also half naked so I’m not really sure what went down, but Derek was in an extra good mood today.
Maybe he won’t break as many TVs if he gets laid more often.
That would definitely be something.
After I’ve clocked out for the day in the office, I head to my car and do the same ritual.
Pray for it to start and then let her warm up.
While I sit here waiting, I pick some music to play off of Spotify for my drive home.
The first song I notice is “Message in a Bottle” by The Police.
I click play and let the sound fill up my ears.
Most people call me an old soul and I honestly like to think that I am.
I’m really into shows like Saved by the Bell, Seinfeld, and Married With Children. But my real weakness is Full House . I’ve had the biggest crush on DJ Tanner since I could remember.
The song is longer than most songs, it’s almost five minutes long, so once it’s over, I take that as my cue to leave. The car is probably good to go by now. I put my car in reverse and press on the gas to go.
My SUV gets me home and I jingle my keys in the lock to unlock the front door. Usually I come home to find Derek screaming at the TV, but now he has no TV to scream at, so I wonder what he’s up to.
When I open the door, my nostrils are filled with a delicious aroma. I smell something on the stove, Derek must be cooking. But what? We have no food other than peanut butter, jelly, and bread.
“What’s cookin’, good lookin’?” I say, stepping inside and smelling something way better than peanut butter.
“Sweetheart! You’re home!” He answers, playing along with the joke.
I laugh. “I’m making some grilled chicken caesar wraps. I took some of the ingredients from work cuz I was craving one. Want one?” He asks.
“Fuck yeah, I’m starving,” I tell him.
It will be nice to take a break from my usual dinner. Real food feels like a luxury around here.
While Derek finishes fixing up our dinner, I take my coat and boots off.
I leave the boots by the door so I don’t track any wet snow into the apartment and then I take a seat at one of our bar stools.
Whenever Derek cooks, it feels like we are at the resort because our apartment layout resembles the bar a little bit.
We have tall bar stools against our counter and Derek is cooking behind it.
Derek slides me my plate with my food. My mouth is watering.
I take a bite and practically sink in my chair.
I forgot how good these chicken caesar wraps are.
I’m so used to just ordering a normal burger.
Not for nothing, Derek’s burgers are the best. Just like anything he makes is the best. Maybe I should venture out more and explore some other items on the menu.
Before she left, Genevieve told me to bring swim trunks. Hot tub, I’m guessing.
No complaints here. The only thing better than holding her hand on a snowboard is holding her waist in a pool of hot water.
Which reminds me, I need to ask Derek.
Derek leans his body over the counter, mouth stuffed with tortilla, chicken and greens. He looks like an animal feasting for the first time in days. We really should ask for raises.
“So you up to going back to the cabin tonight to hang out with the girls? Genevieve invited both of us. Seems like you and Lana were getting pretty acquainted last night?”
“Yeah, that Lana girl is pretty freaky, I like her. I’m down,” he says.
“Good, bring your swim shorts and be ready in an hour,” I tell him and then I take my last bite.
I stick my plate in the sink, hearing the glass clank, and just watch him give me the biggest smirk. I honestly don’t even want to know why.
I hop in the shower, letting the scalding water peel away the chill.
It’s my first quiet moment today—and of course, my brain drifts straight to Genevieve. Her hair's so lucious. I wonder what shampoo she uses. Something with coconuts. She smelt like coconuts last night and I know because I took a big whiff of her anytime she was near.
I tilt my head back, letting my hair get wet so I can wash it with my 3 in 1. I massage the suds into my scalp, letting the dirt from my hair rinse out.
Her hair is long and blonde and falls down to her belly button in the softest waves.
Her hair looks like it doesn’t have a single knot in it.
She must brush it almost hourly. Today when she came it looked freshly brushed and she had a hat on.
Her hair looks good in any style… but nothing beats when it’s twisted around my fingers—her hair tangled up in my fists, her lips on mine, like I’m the only thing she sees.
I rinse the soap out and lean into the tile, forehead pressed to the wall.
What the hell am I doing? This started as a casual hookup—she was supposed to be a good story, not a full-on distraction.
And yet here I am, thinking about her laugh, the way she took that fall without crying, how she looked at me like I was the only guy in the world who saw her for real.
It’s not just about getting laid anymore. That’s the scariest part.
I wash my body and step out of the tub. I give myself a quick dry so Derek can shower if he wants to and head to my room to get dressed.
Swim trunks in hand, my stomach's tight. The same way it gets right before I hit a new jump. That mix of adrenaline and straight-up fear. I don’t know what tonight holds exactly, but I do know one thing—
If Genevieve wants me there, I’m showing up.